


But to me you know you'll always be my little girl

by lizzybean



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Adoption, Bottom Niall, Established Relationship, M/M, Narry - Freeform, Parents AU, Surrogacy, slight angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-15 02:43:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2212734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizzybean/pseuds/lizzybean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The same way girls get baby fever, Harry was starting to have a baby fever of his own. Any time he saw a pram or small human toddle past, he felt a throb in his middle, like his imaginary female reproductive organs were revving up their engines and dusting away the cobwebs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gonna tell you how much I love you, though you think you already know

**Author's Note:**

> Part one of about three
> 
> Title taken from Tim McGraw's My Little Girl, which actually fits the story pretty nicely so go listen to it.
> 
> 100% fiction, don't send to those involved. All mistakes are my own. 
> 
> Dedicated to Bekah for her continuous support and ideas that helped make this fic happen and continue to make this fic happen because I'm definitely not done yet :|

Harry can pinpoint the moment his biological clock started ticking... not that he has one or anything. 

Lou had nearly tossed Lux into Harry's arms when he arrived at her and Tom's flat one morning, hearing something about the place being in an utter state and could he please watch her and make sure she stayed out of trouble, thanks. He'd eyed the small toddler in his arms and she'd eyed him back, big blue eyes surveying his face before breaking out into a wide smile. That big baby smile had warmed his non-existent ovaries into wanting a baby of his own. 

The same way girls get baby fever, Harry was starting to have a baby fever of his own. Any time he saw a pram or small human toddle past, he felt a throb in his middle, like his imaginary female reproductive organs were revving up their engines and dusting away the cobwebs. 

“You should get that checked out, mate,” Louis had noted around a mouthful of cereal, the rest of the band staring at him from around the breakfast table. Harry had just rolled his eyes and buttered a piece of toast. 

“Yeah, what if it's something serious?” Liam added, and his look of concern pulled at Harry's heartstrings so bad that he promised he would go to the doctor's as soon as he could. 

(He was fine, for the record. Just his fake uterus telling him to go get knocked up.) 

Fortunately, tour took over their lives for the next few years, and in the meager three month breaks that they had, Harry was busy with his family or buying his new house, or even filming their next movie because that was what was in his contract. Even when they were supposed to be relaxing and kicking back, they were still busy as hell. Niall had knee surgery, Liam had his nightlife and Zayn had to disappear off the face of the earth. (Louis' mum had twins, and Harry vowed as soon as he found out that he would go right over to their house in Doncaster and snatch the babies up for himself.) 

–

When Harry and Niall start dating, no one's surprised at all. 

They don't even keep it much under wraps: when they come out to their band mates, they all just kind of shrug and admit 'that explains a lot'. It was disappointing, Harry had been expecting a tearful group hug at the very least. All he got were warnings not to fuck with Niall or else. 

Life pretty much goes on as usual, with tour and meetings and everything in between. By the time the whole One Direction craze peters out and everyone decides that a hiatus is in order, Harry would consider Niall and himself more or less settled. The LA house is always loud with Niall's laugh or him just running around the halls in his briefs and socks, and Harry's bed is a lot less huge when he has Niall rolling around and kicking him in the middle of the night. 

There's just one thing missing, and it's the pitter patter of tiny feet.

And that's when he brings up the B-A-B-Y. 

“It's three in the morning, don't spell,” Niall scolds, his eyes already shut and his head pressed into Harry's chest. He looks like a burrito, all wrapped up in the comforter where his body isn't pressed into Harry's side. Harry snorts. 

“I want a baby,” Harry reiterates, this time not spelling out the horribly difficult four letter word. Niall opens his eyes slowly, peering at him through the dark. Outside of the floor to ceiling windows, the valley is dotted with lights and a weird hazy glow from the city around them. It reminds Harry vaguely of tour, of how they never were fully submerged in darkness. He has black-out curtains, sure, but he likes the orange haze that shades Niall's face just so. It keeps him illuminated enough to watch every little flick of body language the other's expressive eyebrows have to offer.

“What do you want me to do?” Niall asks, voice thick with exhaustion as his eyes drift shut once again. “Is there something you're not telling me?” 

Harry chuckles and shakes his head, working his long fingers through Niall's hair, rubbing against his scalp. Niall purrs and relaxes visibly. 

“I want your permission to start looking for a surrogate.” 

Niall groans because anything involving a lot of thought is not his forte in the wee hours of the morning when he's meant to be snoring against Harry's skin. Plus this is big. This is a big decision they're making. It's something that could very well seal the deal on their relationship and they've never talked much about The Future. The one with the rings and vows and stuff. 

“Can I sleep on it? Please?” he begs, eyebrows tilting upwards as he looks up at Harry. “I'm exhausted, love, please.” 

Harry just nods, staring at the ceiling as Niall becomes dead weight against his side. 

–

The agency they go through is wonderful, promising to keep everything very private throughout the pregnancy. It's actually a fun venture in the very beginning: picking the woman they want to be the surrogate through various “mugshots” over toast, laughing as Niall jerks off into a cup for the doctor who would be doing the IVF treatment. Harry wishes he could have his sperm manipulated into an egg so their baby could be both of theirs, but when Gemma offers to let him have some of hers, he cries into the phone and thanks her sixty four times. Niall counts as he sits beside him and rubs his back. 

Honestly, Niall kind of loves how maternal Harry can be, sitting around the pool with his mum and sister when they come to visit, talking about names and nursery colors. He laughs and smiles and everything is pretty much perfect. 

–

The first few implantation attempts are unsuccessful, and each time the phone rings now, Harry walks the opposite direction. Niall's better at handling the agents and the doctors who apologize, explaining that these things don't always go exactly as planned. All Niall can really do is thank them and ask if there's anything more he can do. He always finds Harry out on the upper deck of his house, thighs drawn to his chest and arms curled tight around them, his head rested atop his knees. He sits there for hours on a few occasions, just staring out at his little yard and the pool. 

“Harry...” Niall starts softly after the fourth time, pressing his hand into the middle of the younger man's back. He doesn't know what he'd have said afterwards, wanting to tell him that everything would work out, but he couldn't promise anything. He wants nothing more than to give Harry the world, offer it all up on a silver platter and make him smile his carefree smile again. 

“It's okay,” Harry sighs after a beat, smoothing his hand over his calf idly. When he looks up, Niall can see the sadness in his eyes, the defeat. “These things happen, you know? Doctor said.” He shrugs half-heartedly, and Niall can feel his chest tighten considerably. 

“It's really disheartening,” Niall admits as he sits down beside Harry, bracing himself on his arms and leaning back. “I didn't think it'd be this difficult. Thought it'd be a one and done deal.” 

Harry shakes his head slowly, heaving a sigh before looking back over at Niall, lifting one hand to give his bicep a gentle squeeze. They don't say much after that, both poking their fingers in the holes of the dam to keep their emotions from spilling out. 

– 

It's a Wednesday morning and they're eating breakfast when they get the call. Harry peers at the caller ID from across the kitchen, but Niall's the one to get up, bringing a rasher of bacon along with him as he answers. 

“Hullo?” he asks around his mouthful, catching Harry's eye when he hears their agent greeting him. He chews slowly as she speaks, brain not really processing anything but 'congratulations'. “Ehm, can you repeat that, please?” He taps the speaker phone button and Harry's hands flinch up from where he's been gripping the seat of his chair to potentially clap his huge mitts over his ears. 

“We finally have implantation, your surrogate's pregnant! So congratulations on the first step to becoming fathers!”

Harry turns white and Niall can hardly see through the bleariness that shades his vision, nearly dropping everything in order to cross the space between them and press his lips against Harry's. 

“Are you serious? Is she serious?” Harry asks frantically, long fingers tangled firmly into Niall's shirt as he looks up at his boyfriend. Niall just nods, a casual laugh coming from the phone as the agent assures them that yes, she is serious. 

–

Before their baby existed, Harry thought nine months was a long time. Now he's panicking because it's hardly enough to get everything prepared.

“Jesus Christ, you'd think that you were pregnant, racing around like a mother hen,” Niall notes from the couch as Harry trips over his own feet trying to get a pile of paint swatches to the room that'll become the nursery. He's laden with catalogs and print outs of bedding and furniture, but Niall doesn't want to stop him and remind him that nothing's still set in stone until the first trimester is over. He'd rather not be a buzz kill. 

“I wish I was pregnant,” Harry says longingly from where he's stopped, trying to crouch and pick up a blue gradient sample for the wall color. They weren't going to meet the surrogate, just in case she saw who's baby it was and decided to just keep the little celebrity spawn for herself. Plus it was easier to keep from the tabloids. But all Harry wanted was to touch the bump as it grew, graze his thumb over the tiny foot imprints pushed into the skin and talk to their future child. 

For now, he'd have to settle for what the agency sends him, mostly sonogram pictures of a tiny white blob in a sea of gray. 

–

“I like it,” Niall decides as he looks over the coat of paint they'd thrown on the wall, crossing his arms over his blue smudged tshirt. 

“It's not too bright is it? I don't want the color to mess up our baby's sleep cycle because their body thinks it's day,” Harry explains, looking over at Niall with a lifted eyebrow. Niall gives him a look back, reaching over quickly to swipe the still wet paintbrush in his hand down over Harry's nose. He earns a loud “for fuck's sake!” and is quickly pinned to the ground for his comeuppance. 

“Hey, hey, be gentle!” he half shouts, wielding his paintbrush like a sword, coating Harry's bare arms and then torso with the stuff until it's just nearly dry bristles scraping over his skin. And then Harry's settling his weight between Niall's legs and... oh. Oh. 

“I'm being gentle,” Harry murmurs as he ducks down to kiss Niall, parting his lips and using his tongue to lick open Niall's mouth. He tastes like the mint gum he's always chewing at an almost too sweet level, and Niall has to pull up for air before long because now he's hard and straining against his jeans and it almost _hurts_.

He can't even think of anything coherent to say under Harry's predatory gaze, licking over his lips as he sheds his shirt and tosses it aside so it doesn't get messier than it already is. Harry's mouthing at his neck before long, tongue pressing into his pulse point and he's making these absolutely obscene noises that go straight to Niall's dick. All he wants is to wriggle off his pants and get a hand around himself, stroke until he sees white and streaks his belly, but at the same time he wants slow and wonderful, the way Harry's best at these things. 

“What do you want?” Harry asks the thick corded muscle of his throat, and Niall swallows. It's almost as if he's read his mind. He's quick though, and grabs for Harry's discarded paintbrush to trail a blue line down his stomach, turning it to an arrow pointed right at his crotch. Harry pulls up to look at it, quirking a small grin. 

“I don't think that's enough indication,” he teases, and Niall groans, slapping the paintbrush against Harry's cheek. Harry grins and it's ridiculously sexy despite the fact that he looks like he's trying out to be a member of the Blue Man Group and failing miserably.

“Figure it out,” Niall grumbles, dropping his hands to undo his zipper, not patient enough for the teasing right now. Harry's worked him up and now he wants those perfect pink lips around his cock. His pants come down and his cock springs up towards his stomach, but he catches it before it drags through the blue paint and ruins the fun. He's sure this stuff is toxic to put in your mouth. It has to be. 

His hand stays propped at the base and Harry looks down between them, planting his own hand down near Niall's balls, pressing up lightly against them as he curls his fingers around Niall's length. When he removes his hand- mouth currently keeping Niall's hard on out of harm's way- he snorts loudly, Niall shooting up in concern. 

“Blue balls,” he jokes softly, rolling them over his fingers with his thumb and looking up at Niall with the dorkiest grin. Somehow in the literal transfer of hands, Harry'd smeared paint on him. Niall groans and rolls his eyes as he flops back onto the newspaper covered hardwood. 

“You're the worst,” the oldest huffs, groaning at the sudden loss of the hot mouth around the head. The cool minty feeling that he knows Harry's left behind on his dick feels ridiculously cold in the AC, and he can't help the goosebumps that crawl up his body. 

“Rude,” Harry scolds, not even skipping a beat before he's swallowing Niall down to the root, making him groan loud enough that it echos through the house. 

_I'm not the one giving my boyfriend a blowie on the floor of their future baby's nursery_ , Niall thinks to himself, the idea swept from his mind when Harry circles two spit slicked and paint free fingers over his entrance. 

–

“Today our baby is the size of a banana,” Harry recites from his phone, banana clasped in his hand. Ever since he's found these fruit analogies, he's been surprising Niall with them each week. It's great, really, except for when their baby was the size of an avocado and Harry used their model to make guac that afternoon. Niall'd felt a bit sick eating it, but it was delicious. 

“Our baby is six inches long, and weighs about 10 and a half ounces.” He follows this up with a small, pleased noise and starts peeling, continuing to read as he takes the first bite. A few links later, he makes a gagging noise and Niall lifts an eyebrow. 

“Apparently our baby poops now,” he notes around a mouthful of banana, looking up at Niall with a concerned expression. He's not sure if he's going to be able to swallow the mushed fruit in his mouth. Niall can't stop laughing. 

“That's mad,” Niall hiccups through his laughter, lifting a hand to rub at his eye. They've reached the halfway point now, and he's admittedly getting more excited each week... if not ridiculously nervous. They were going to be parents in another twenty weeks, maybe even less. He had been less nervous about his X Factor audition than he is now about becoming a dad. At least he thinks so; it's been ages since then.

Harry keeps tapping away at his phone, probably texting his mum to tell her all about their banana sized baby when a notification cuts him off and steals his attention. He's quiet for so long that Niall gets concerned, and when he looks up and sees bleary green eyes, his stomach drops. 

“What's wrong?” he asks as he crawls across the foot of space between them to get to the other man, fitting himself around Harry as best he can, fitting into the gaps around his boyfriend's body. He hates that he's been conditioned to expect the worst when it comes to goings on about their baby. “Hazza,” he starts, looking down at the screen when it's turned to him. 

“That's...” He feels dizzy, his hand curling around Harry's bicep because _holy shit._

“That's our baby,” Harry blubbers, and Niall can't help but laugh softly because he looks ridiculous with tears dripping down his cheeks and his chin wobbling like that. He loves every bit of that dumb face so much it makes his heart hurt. 

“Hazza, babe,” he coos, drawing him in for a soft kiss before thumbing away the teardrops that have collected under his eyes. As soon as he moves away, Harry continues to gape at his phone screen. 

“Look at the little profile,” Harry points out, sniffling as he lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe at his eyes. It's so different from the first sonogram he'd seen, where the baby was a tiny blip with no major distinctions. “The agency says they know the sex if we want to find out,” he croaks softly, looking up at Niall with raised brows. “Do we want to know?” 

Niall just shrugs, stroking a few stray curls from Harry's face, studying his features. “It's up to you, love,” he murmurs after a moment, because in all fairness, it might be their baby, but this is Harry's dream. 

– 

“I can't say I've ever been to a baby shower where there's no pregnant lady to fawn over. Let alone with guys present,” Anne notes as she fits her arm around Harry's middle, giving him a gentle squeeze. He beams, looking over at his mother and soaking in the pride that's clear in her features. It's nice to be home in Cheshire even if it's only for a week, surrounded by his and Niall's female relatives, and earlier their bandmates with girlfriends in tow. 

“Well, this isn't exactly the usual way for a couple to procure a baby,” Harry points out, taking a sip of his glass of champagne. Anne laughs. 

“Do you have a name yet? You guys are getting close,” she asks, arching her eyebrow in the way that Harry does so often. The resemblance is uncanny. Harry nods, but doesn't yield to her question. 

“Not telling until we've got her in our arms,” he hums, trying not to grin. He and Niall had sat down with a baby book when they found out the sex, and he'd caved when Niall requested part of her name be traditional Irish. A lot of the names he threw out there Harry couldn't even dream of pronouncing, even with the slow, steady cadence of his voice. Niall had tried to help, but his tongue could do things that Harry's wasn't quick enough to, having spent his entire life with Eoghans and Siobhans.

But the name they did pick is beautiful, and he tells his mum as much, trying not to laugh as she shakes her head and swats at his arm dismissively. 

–

It's entirely an accident, the agency assures Niall over the phone. He can feel his skin heating up, blood hot as they explain the situation. He doesn't know how he'll tell Harry, the other boy folding baby clothes in the nursery and humming some song he'd heard on the radio. 

“Nothing had better go fuckin' wrong, ye hear?” he spits into the receiver, hanging up. He needs to take a breather before he tells Harry, stalking around the kitchen a few paces, folding his arms against the kitchen island and pressing his head into the space left behind. It's one of the downsides of being Irish, having a temper that flares at the drop of a hat. 

Or in this case, a leak of important information.

“Something wrong?” 

Niall's stomach drops and he doesn't move for what feels like an eternity, finally righting himself and scrubbing a hand through his hair. Harry has baby socks on his fingers and he's walking them across the counter, looking like a fool. An adorable, loveable fool. 

“Come sit,” Niall murmurs, settling his hand in the middle of Harry's back as he guides him to the living space, flopping onto the couch with a soft groan and rubbing his palms up his thighs. He feels bad leaving everything so vague; Harry looks like he's going to turn those tiny socks into his own with the amount of tugging and worrying he's doing to the delicate knit fabric. Niall reaches over to calm his fingers. 

“The surrogate found out who we are,” he says gently, shifting so he's facing Harry a bit better. He doesn't want to sugar coat it, because there's no way that he can possibly fathom doing that to Harry. He can't draw it out or soften the blow - the best thing he can do is be blunt and tell him the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. The younger looks like someone's hit a pause button, eyes wide and set firm on Niall's face. He doesn't even blink. 

“Shit, that's not good,” he admits in one breath after a couple long seconds, looking down at the socks in his big palms, trying to squelch the feeling that he might not be able to put them on their daughter. Niall flicks his gaze down to the little booties, pressing his palm into Harry's and knitting their fingers together. 

“I promise you, Hazza, I will do everything I can to get you our baby girl, okay?” he asks, giving his hand a series of squeezes. “If our surrogate doesn't want to sign off, I'll give her as much money as she wants so that you can have that baby you've always wanted. The one you've dreamed of, yeah?” 

Harry doesn't squeeze back. 

–

Harry just wants to get his mind off the information leak. 

It's been nearly two weeks since they'd gotten the call from the agency, and so far they said that everything was going as planned. But it didn't stop Harry from worrying, nibbling his nails down to stubs and pacing whenever he got the chance. His long empty hallways are great for pacing, he finds out, much to Niall's worry. 

“Keep tha' up love, and I'll lock you outside to pace,” Niall calls when Harry strolls past the den, hands clasped behind his back. The telltale noises of FIFA flood into the hallway when he passes, and the next time he makes rounds, Niall's propped there, one hand in the pocket of his joggers and the other scratching at his bare chest. 

“Why don't you swim laps or sommat?” he suggests, lifting an eyebrow. His bright eyes follow Harry as he ambles past, leaning as he starts to get out of view.

“I just... I need to keep moving,” Harry explains, circling round the kitchen and then coming back down the hall. “Too much energy.” 

“Go for a run?” 

Harry just shakes his head, curls spilling into his face. “I'll get all sweaty.” 

“Hazza, if you keep this up, you'll wear out your hardwood floors,” Niall teases gently, grabbing him by the arm when he passes again, nearly toppling them both over when he throws Harry off of his center of gravity. They collapse against the wall and Niall laughs a bit breathlessly, partly because Harry's stocky body's knocked the wind out of him. 

“Hi,” Harry comments when Niall's arms loop loosely around his waist, knowing the devilish quirk in Niall's eyebrows all too well. 

“I think I know what we can do to take your mind off of things. Burn off some energy,” he purrs, sliding his hands down lower, dipping his thumbs into the dimples at the small of Harry's back. His fingers curl over the round of Harry's ass through his skin tight jeans, gripping enough to haul him into his crotch. 

“Yeah? And what might that be?” Harry croons back, green eyes dark as he drops his hands to play at Niall's crotch, feeling him harden slightly against the tips of his fingers. He can only imagine how the soft material of the sweats must feel against the swollen length of Niall's cock. It sends a shiver up his spine. 

“Taking advantage of a quiet, empty house,” Niall hums, leaning into Harry's touches, his lips parting with a soft intake of breath. Harry chuckles and Niall shoots him a dark look. 

“Apparently sex can spur on labor,” he notes as he pulls away from Niall, ignoring the way he winces and his hand automatically drops to stroke himself through his pants. 

“Well neither of us are going to have that issue,” Niall argues lightly, following after Harry as the younger man slips into their bedroom, watching as he collects a bottle of lube and a strip of condoms. He waits in the doorway, not even trying to be discrete anymore as he strokes himself, fist pushed into his sweatpants and the pink, flushed head of his cock peeping just above the waistband. Harry pauses to watch him, licking over his lips. 

“Never fucked in the kitchen before, have we?” Harry suggests as he presses his fingertips into Niall's back, guiding him back into the living space. His eyes flick up from Niall's cock, eyebrows arching curiously. Niall has that tell tale blush of arousal creeping up his chest, and he doesn't even need to answer, his cock does all the work for him with a gush of precome beading at the tip. 

“Yeah, yeah that's fine,” he finally breathes out with a thick gulp of air. Harry smirks. He loves how easy it is to get Niall to fall apart. 

He presses Niall into the kitchen island, curling his fingers between Niall's as he grinds his hips into his ass, trying to show him just how hard he is as his clothed erection slides between Niall's ass cheeks. His jeans keep him mostly under control, but he's still rock hard and throbbing as he presses into the soft flesh beneath him. 

“Always teasing,” Niall huffs from where his face is pressed into the cool granite counter top, closing his eyes when he feels Harry's lips against his ear. 

“Would you prefer I just finish you off as quickly as possible?” he murmurs finally, and Niall's quick to shake his head. He's aching. “I didn't think so.” 

Long fingers peel away Niall's waistband and he makes a soft grunting noise as his cock catches under the elastic and is flung back up against his belly, making a faint slapping noise against his skin. Harry's lips are on the back of his neck, working down over his spine as his fingers curl around the other boy's length, stroking slowly. 

Niall absolutely keens when he feels Harry's tongue against his entrance, knowing he's still fully dressed in some ridiculous button up only buttoned to his middle and skinny jeans, while Niall's got his pants around his ankles. He's not ashamed to press back into the feeling, one of Harry's hands secure around his ass cheek and the other fisting over his cock. His breath fogs up the dark colored granite beneath his head, and when Harry presses into him with two slick fingers at once, he cries out, the noise punctuated with a loud squeak of his damp skin on the cool, smooth stone. 

“You like when I fuck you open like this with my fingers?” Harry croons, hooking the digits down into Niall's prostate, pressing into the swollen spot as Niall quivers beneath his touch. He's planting audible kisses to the back of Niall's thigh now, other hand neglecting Niall's dick in favor of stroking over the silky inside of his leg. His thumb presses against the smooth skin just behind Niall's balls and he smirks when Niall moans, loud and deep. 

“I like it when you f-fuck me open with other things too- ah!” Niall gasps as Harry adds a third finger, tongue still teasing against the rim of his entrance. The feeling of Harry's slightly calloused fingertips against his prostate makes Niall's legs quake, his own hands grappling for purchase against the counter. 

Harry pulls his mouth away but continues to work his fingers, pressing his chest flat against Niall's back as he stands and kissing over the thick corded muscle of Niall's neck. He sucks at his pulse point until Niall whines and grinds down hard against Harry's fingers, his free hand wandering up over the plane of Niall's chest to twist gingerly at a nipple. 

“Jus' fuck me Harry, quit teasin' me,” Niall pants and when Harry's hand drops back to his cock, it's hot with an aroused flush, precome leaking eagerly from the head. He can't help but moan out himself, pressing his forehead between Niall's shoulder blades as he reaches down to free his own cock from the too tight confines of his jeans. His arm curls around Niall's middle as he slots his hips up into the other's rear, cock fitting perfectly in the cleft of Niall's ass. 

“Harry,” Niall reprimands lightly, looking over his shoulder at his boyfriend, eyes just barely able to catch the action going on behind him. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry laughs out breathily, giving himself a few good strokes as he reaches for the strip of condoms, tearing one of the foils off and rolling the rubber down onto his length. The lube is next, and with a few strokes to his cock, he's guiding the tip in ever so slowly, watching the condensation against the dark counter top as Niall exhales a long, shuddery breath.

“Good,” Niall murmurs as Harry's hips meet the soft flesh of Niall's ass, and Harry knows it must feel amazing: being filled up, the stretch of his hole around Harry. From the way Niall's quivering with anticipation, kicking one socked foot free of his sweats to set his legs in a wider stance, it has to be heaven. Not to say that being rimmed, finger fucked and frotted against wasn't. 

But then, like they say, all good things must come to an end. 

Just as Harry works up a steady rhythm, the force of his thrusts pushing a sweaty Niall against the counter with that obscene squeaking noise, the phone rings. 

“Fuck- let it ring, Hazza,” Niall pants out, skin flushed dark pink as he presses back into Harry's thrusts. A particularly well timed one draws out what can only be described as a shout, Niall's hand reaching back to clamp onto Harry's thigh. 

Harry fucks him for the full few seconds the phone rings, teeth gritted to hold back the tiny noises he's making at the exertion, but as soon as the answering machine goes, he stills. He'd like to hear the message over the sound of his skin slapping against Niall's, thanks. 

_Hi! This is Harry – and this is Niall! - please leave a message after the tone... That wasn't together enough- shut the f- __beep._

“Hi, this is Carol with the surrogate agency,” the voice intones, and Niall freezes. No. No, no, _no_ , not now. Harry's completely still, and Niall knows that if he looks over his shoulder, he'll see the younger man watching the phone, cock still buried deep in Niall's ass. He considers fucking himself back on it, trying to get his attention. 

“We're just calling to inform you that your surrogate has gone into labor and is currently settling into the hospital now-”

“Hello?” Harry answers, and Niall wilts, knees buckling slightly from the empty feeling left in the wake of Harry's cock. He can hear the condom snap against Harry's skin as he plucks at the tip to get it off, and he knows that they're done. He's leaking and aching and they're not going to be fucking again for awhile if Harry gets his way. 

He straightens up slowly, wincing at the near-painful looking color of his neglected cock, deciding he'll just deal with the wet stain that'll appear in the front of his joggers rather than wipe away what's collected at the oversensitive tip. And he's definitely going to have blue balls. Damn it. 

“Niall!” 

The Irishman turns to look over his shoulder, hoping he doesn't look too disappointed, but one glance at Harry plasters a fond smile to his face. Excitement coats every feature, green eyes wide and bright and his dimples on full display. 

“Only a few more hours left until we get to see her!” he chirps, and Niall braces himself a bit when Harry surges forward to wrap his arms around his middle, hug him tight. “I can't wait, I really can't!” 

Niall just inhales the sweaty tang of Harry's skin, burying his face into the curls that brush just the base of Harry's neck. 

–

“I think you're jumping the gun here,” Niall notes as they arrive at the hospital, creeping in through a back entrance of the maternity ward. A nurse whisks them into a small, private waiting room and they settle onto the couch. Harry's almost bouncing with excitement, looking around the room with wide eyes. He'd already sent out a mass text and called both of their mothers, all on the drive over here, so it was all too clear that he was massively excited. His phone was buzzing off the hook now, probably all just texts from their friends and families, wishing them luck. 

“I can't help it, okay? We're going to see her in only a few hours!” he chirps, reaching over to take Niall's hand and lace their fingers. Niall leans over to steal a kiss. His balls ache from being withheld his orgasm, and his erection hasn't even thought about going all the way down, his semi tucked into the tightest jeans he could find. 

“I'll only stay here for that entire time if you suck me off in the private bathroom over there,” Niall hums, nodding to the half open door. Harry scoffs, reaching over to give Niall's bicep a squeeze. 

“Very funny,” he murmurs against the inside of his ear, and the hot breath on his skin sends a shiver up Niall's spine, his grip tightening around Harry's hand as his cock throbs painfully. 

“Yeah, funny,” Niall sighs, shifting so he can drop his hand between Harry's legs, getting his attention by rubbing his thumb over the zipper of his jeans. “It'll be just like old times, frantically getting off in the bathrooms of jets, the back room of the bus...” He hums all of this into Harry's pulse point, punctuating it with a soft suck to the tender skin. Harry makes a tiny noise in the back of his throat.

“We're in public,” Harry hisses once he comes to his senses, looking over at him with a sideways glance. 

“Never stopped you before,” Niall offers with a shrug, thumbing open the button. 

A knock on the door startles them apart, only their hands still knit together as the obstetrician comes in. She gives them a polite smile and introduces herself as Dr. Walker, bringing over a plastic chair so she can sit in front of them. 

“So, your surrogate went into labor only a few hours ago, and is only about two or three centimeters dilated, so at this rate, we figure she'll probably be laboring through the night,” she explains, looking down at her clipboard. “Unless you two are planning on staying here all night, I recommend you go home, get some sleep and we'll call you when the baby's arrived.” 

Harry looks slightly disappointed, but Niall knows he'll be thanking him later that night after they've gotten some rest in their own, comfortable bed. 

–

“So this could take hours,” Harry whines as they walk into the house, tossing his car keys into their little key bowl and stalking into the living room like a petulant toddler. He flops onto the couch with a huff, and Niall rolls his eyes. 

“I know how we can spend that time,” Niall singsongs from the kitchen, half in the fridge as he looks for a snack. When he closes the door, Harry's in the doorway, hip against the jamb and arms crossed. 

“You just can't get your mind off of sex ever, can you?” he asks with a shake of his head. He doesn't look angry, exactly, just amused. Niall snorts, shaking his head. 

“If I hadn't been left hanging, this wouldn't be an issue,” he argues back, and it's hardly an argument. More like a statement of fact. 

Harry huffs, walking over to the fruit bowl to grab a banana, huffing to himself as he takes a bite. When a pair of arms curls around his middle, he sighs, leaning into the gentle touch. There's no way he can stay mad when he's being given attention. Niall's cheek presses to the back of his shoulder and he tips his head back to press against Niall's, inhaling a deep breath. Just like yoga. When he exhales, any small bit of anger or frustration he has floats out of his body. 

“This is the last time we'll have an empty house,” Niall murmurs against his shoulder blade, and Harry lifts an eyebrow because oh. _Oh._

“Oh my god,” he breathes out, and his chest feels tight, reaching back to curl his fingers around Niall's hip, giving him a gentle squeeze. Niall nuzzles him back. 

“We should be taking advantage of being able to actually fuck in the kitchen, cause the next time that'll probably happen is when she's off to college,” he adds, and the reality of the situation is sinking in. Their lives are changing forever within the next couple of hours. It's not going to be just them anymore, it's going to be them and a tiny, helpless life that needs them every step of the way for the next couple of years. _They're having a baby._

“Fuck, okay,” Harry pants out, and he abandons the banana on the counter before turning in Niall's grip, fitting their mouths together. He undoes his button up and shimmies out of it, working on Niall's tshirt while he's at it. The fabric gets caught on Niall's nose when it comes off over his head, and they both laugh about it, Harry's heart feeling full to the point of bursting. 

“I love you,” he murmurs against Niall's lips and Niall grins, walking them backwards to the island counter where they'd been last, reaching for the lube and condoms. 

“I love you too, Hazza,” Niall hums back, pressing the supplies into Harry's hand before eyeing the counter, trying to figure out what position to be in. There was no way in hell he was going to just bend over again, not when he wants the intimacy they've built up right now. He wants to be able to look Harry in the eye and feel him in his bones. 

They end up abandoning the kitchen for the comfort of their own bed, tumbling into the sheets and shedding the rest of their clothing as they clamor up to the pillows. The door to their bedroom stays open, just because, and it's not long before Harry's between Niall's legs and pressing into him, a deep, pleased moan pushed from the Irishman's lungs as he's filled.

“Shit,” Niall breathes out as Harry lifts one of his legs to get deeper, pressing a kiss to the inside of his ankle as he hooks his heel into his shoulder. Niall's other leg fits around Harry's hips, trying to draw him in. He wants them so close they practically melt together. He wants their heartbeats to beat in time with each other. 

Harry picks up a rhythm in no time, long curls spilling in between them and they can't help but to giggle about it, Niall reaching up to tangle his fingers in that wild mane. When he tugs, he's rewarded with a moan, licking the noise out of Harry's mouth with ease. It's just so natural to them, to fall into step like this, just generally enjoying each other's company even in the throes of passion. 

“Niall?” Harry breathes out, and all Niall can do is make a soft 'mm?' noise to assure him that he's heard. “We're going to be parents in a few hours,” he continues, the words soft. When Niall opens his eyes, he has to blink. 

“Baby, are you crying?” he coos, and Harry just makes a soft noise and tries to smile, dropping Niall's leg and dipping his head down to kiss him. He keeps his lips there for a long moment before pulling away and pressing their foreheads together, just sharing the air between them. His hips still to tiny rotations, enough to keep the delicious friction between them. A drip that lands on Niall's cheek is enough to answer his question.

“Hey, Hazza,” he murmurs, lifting his hand to thumb away the moisture just under Harry's eyes. “It's okay.” 

“I know,” Harry replies and it's nearly a croak, his head ducking down to press into Niall's shoulder, his hips snap up suddenly and Niall cries out, back arching off the bed as he pushes his hips down into the other's. 

“Just... just keep going, please,” Niall pants out, legs shaking slightly from the shocks of pleasure that are still rocking through him from that one push into his prostate. His own cock is flushed pink and leaking against his stomach, leaving a slick trail of precome in its wake. Another thrust into his prostate and he's whining. 

It only takes a few more minutes before he's streaking his stomach with his pent up orgasm, finally getting the release he'd been craving so badly. His muscles tighten around Harry and all but lock him in place, one last thrust milking his boyfriend's orgasm from him as well. 

They flop into a quivering pile of heavy breaths and grappling hands, lips seeking out any piece of skin to kiss. Harry's eyelashes are damp and they drag against the Niall's collarbone, his breath coming a little shakier. 

“You okay, babe?” Niall asks softly once he finds his voice, fingertips dragging over the other's shoulder blades as he speaks. Harry nods slowly, taking a moment to pull out and sit back on his feet. He presses his hair back against the crown of his head and Niall takes in his reddened eyes, his pink nose. He sniffs and Niall just wants to wrap him up in a nice, big safety blanket. 

“I just really hope everything goes okay when we go to pick her up,” he admits, his chin wobbling slightly and Niall has to swallow a lump in his throat. He had forgotten why they'd hit the sack in the first place: Harry's anxiety had been getting the better of him, and while Niall had hoped this would completely quell his fears, he had unfortunately been wrong. 

“Hazza,” Niall starts, but he doesn't know what he'd say. Everything's up in the air right now. Their daughter wasn't theirs until the surrogate signed her off, and considering that she knew who they were... there was a small chance she wouldn't. The past nine months, hell, the past year would have been for nothing. 

Niall couldn't let that happen. 

–

“'Lo?” Niall grunts into his cell as he reaches to turn their alarm clock towards him, groaning audibly at the time staring back at him. Words are said into his ear and he doesn't process any of them, scrubbing the heel of his hand into his eye to wake himself up. “Say tha' again? Jus' woke up,” he explains, accent heavy with sleep and about as quiet as he can get his voice without being inaudible. The last thing he wants is to wake Harry up unnecessarily; it had taken hours of tossing and turning before Harry had finally drifted off, and if the clock was right, it had only been a few hours ago. The sun is just crawling over the hills outside of Harry's house, painting the sky a soft pink color.

“Your baby girl was delivered at three seventeen this morning, Mr. Horan,” the agent replies with a steady voice, and that's all Niall needs to wake up, sitting upright with a start. 

“Really?” His voice squeaks slightly, and he can't help but to breathe out a laugh at it, looking over at the sleeping lump next to him. He considers himself lucky that Harry can be a pretty heavy sleeper. 

“Yes, really,” she hums with a soft laugh of her own. “At about ten this morning, visitation hours open up and you two can both come and see her. We can go over the final paperwork of the adoption then, and she'll be all yours.” 

Niall breathes out a thank you to her and hangs up after she says goodbye, reaching over to curl his arm around Harry's middle. He snuggles up close to his boyfriend, pressing his face into the soft curls at the back of his neck and breathing deeply. His excitement was keeping him awake, but with each breath of Harry's intoxicatingly warm scent, he drifts back off a bit more, relaxing into his boyfriend's sleeping form. 

–

Niall hates paperwork, and this had been the worst thing he'd had to sit through. Worse than the six year, six album contract that he'd signed with One Direction. 

Their surrogate, having found out that they were two relatively famous people, had asked for a larger sum for her services. The final amount was a bit staggering, but the agency didn't really bat an eyelash at the request. 

“It's a decision she made on her own, we took no part in it. Honestly, we only just found out this morning. Now, we would prefer that she doesn't use this as a blackmail technique on you two, but until she signs the paperwork to hand over your baby, then there's nothing we can do about it,” the agent admits when they meet with her in the private waiting room. She had looked a bit worried herself, and it's probably because blackmail would tarnish the company's otherwise pristine record. 

And on top of that, Harry had locked himself in the adjoined bathroom and wouldn't come out. He wasn't even replying to Niall's words through the door, no matter how desperate he got to lure Harry out. He couldn't do this alone, and he didn't want Harry to have to either. 

“Alright, fine,” he huffs finally, getting back to his feet after having been crouched near where he can see Harry's shadow against the wood. “I'll come back later, and if you wanna keep up with the bitch-fit, then be my guest.” His words are snippy, but he's frustrated, sick of being kept in this room by himself. It smells like cleaning fluid and something disgustingly bodily. He almost wants to walk around with his shirt pulled over his nose. 

The agent had politely waited outside of the door for him with the paperwork while he tried to coax Harry out, and as hard as it is to sign his name at the bottom to pay the extra sum of money, he knows how badly Harry wants this baby. She was such a big part of their life now, there was no turning back. 

–

She's literally perfect. 

Niall sits with her for a solid hour in the nursery, just admiring her tiny features as she sleeps against his chest. She has these big ruddy cheeks that are distinctly Irish, but other than that, her features aren't anything specifically Niall or Harry. They're a perfect mix of the two of them, even if they're not straight out of Harry himself. 

After all of the albums, all of the songs he's written, this is the most beautiful, perfect thing he's ever helped make. Easily. 

When Harry's mum texts him, pleading to get Harry out of the bathroom, he knows exactly how he can. 

–

“Harry.” 

“No.”

Niall rolls his eyes, looking over at the nurse who had accompanied him from the nursery. She's standing with the plastic bassinet that their daughter's settled into, rocking it slightly as the little one inside makes hungry noises. That alone should have been enough to get Harry out of the closet sized bathroom, but clearly all those years of in ears that were just a bit too loud took their toll on Harry's hearing. Or maybe the bathroom doors were thicker than Niall had thought. 

“Please, Hazza, just come out,” Niall pleads, trying the knob one last time before just rolling his eyes. “I have a little girl in here who really wants to see her Daddy.” 

There's no response for a long moment, only the sound of Harry's pointy boots on the linoleum floor, and the door opens slowly, only enough for Harry to peek out the crack and survey the room. It's almost as if he expected their surrogate to be standing in front of him, ready to rip his limbs off. But instead, he sees the bassinet, the waiting nurse, and the little 'Happy birthday Amelia Gael Styles-Horan!' taped to the end of the plastic tub. 

Niall almost expects the door to fly off its hinges with the speed that Harry pushes it open, and he looks over at Niall in surprise. 

“Is it really her?” he asks, and Niall can't help but grin, nodding slightly. 

“Yes, it's really her, go see for yourself,” he encourages, stepping just out of the way for Harry to get past. He seems a bit reluctant to cross the threshold of the bathroom, and Niall gives him a tiny nudge before his impatience gets the better of him and he just returns to the crib, gently lifting the tiny bundle into his arms. He makes sure she's secure before settling onto the couch, accepting the bottle from the nurse. 

“I'll come back in a bit,” she notes as Niall takes it from her, heading out the door and closing it quietly to let them have their privacy. 

Harry's very tentatively stepping out of the bathroom to join Niall on the couch, sitting down slowly, almost as if he's afraid the cushioned movement might jostle Amelia out of Niall's arms. He peers over Niall's arm and is as gentle as possible when he pulls the blanket away from her face, pale green eyes skimming over her features before he's pulling back. His chin wobbles as he looks up at Niall, covering his mouth to smother an embarrassing noise. 

“She's really ours?” he murmurs, and the words are muffled by his palm, eyes already bleary with tears. Niall nods, gently prying Harry's hand away from his face and placing it so he can settle the bundle that is Amelia into his arms. 

“She's all ours. All seven pounds, six ounces of her,” he replies, voice soft as he hands over the bottle to Harry. He wants his boyfriend to do the honors, shifting so he can curl his arm around the back of the couch and Harry's shoulders. 

“So tiny,” Harry notes as he holds the bottle to Amelia's little bow shaped mouth, watching as she starts sucking eagerly, eyes slipping shut contentedly. “God, Niall, she's perfect,” he murmurs, almost as if he's afraid of talking too loud. Niall smiles to himself, pressing his head into Harry's shoulder as he watches their daughter.


	2. You've had me wrapped around your finger since the day you were born

“ _Niall._ ”

Niall groans when he hears his name, head already pressed into the pillow. He only laid down to prepare for bed, and he's already dozed off while Harry feeds Amelia one last bottle before she's put down for sleep herself.

They've only had Amelia home for a week and a half. She's eaten her fair share of formula, slept enough to rival Zayn Malik, and they've already changed her diaper ten times today. Niall's exhausted, and he's looking forward to shutting his eyes and getting whatever sleep he can. He hasn't been this tired since they've been on tour, being rushed all over the world in jets and buses. Being a parent is the hardest job he's had so far, easily.

“Harry,” Niall attempts to chime back, voice thick with sleep. He rolls over so he can see where Harry's standing, Amelia curled like a tiny bean against his chest. He knows she'll be asleep soon enough, her belly full of milk and Harry's hand currently working over her back in soft pats. She spits up and Harry coos. Niall almost wishes he got the same treatment whenever he spit up on Harry.

“I uh, I was wondering if maybe we could bring her crib in here. I'm kinda sick of walking down the hall in the middle of the night,” he suggests hopefully, nibbling at his bottom lip as he wipes away some of the baby vomit that's dribbled onto her chin. He peeks over at the sleepy lump on their bed, watching as Niall blinks at him.

“Tha' thing weighs a ton, we'd need ol' Payno here to help,” he mumbles, grabbing for his pillow to snuggle it close. Harry shrugs.

“Then tomorrow?” he asks hopefully, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Amelia's fat baby cheeks are pressed up to Harry's shoulder, face smushed adorably as she dozes off. Niall smiles fondly as he watches her fall asleep, reaching out to squeeze Harry's knee.

“Just like her Da',” he mumbles, a dopey, tired smile pasted to his face. Harry looks between them, laughing softly.

“Just like Daddy Niall,” he coos, looking over at his boyfriend. The amount of fondness that radiates from him fills the room with warmth, and it only drags Niall deeper into exhaustion. “So the crib? Our room? Yes?”

Niall makes a sleepy noise, stretching briefly before curling more into the comforter. “Maybe, babe,” he murmurs. He doesn't know how Harry still has energy. Maybe he'd dozed off each time he'd pulled the rocking chair up to watch Amelia nap in her crib, quietly pushing the railing down so he could skim the backs of his knuckles over her silky infant arms. His smile had radiated warmth and love for that tiny human in front of him, and Niall had to close himself in their bedroom and call his mom to simper about how Harry was made to be a dad.

It had been a long, emotional first week home with their little girl, but Niall couldn't wait for the ones that followed.

–

There's something oddly satisfying about being a parent, Niall finds. It's like being full all the time, but instead of his stomach, it's his chest. When he sees Harry playing with Amelia on the floor, dangling toys above her to get her to reach or giggle, his heart throbs in a good way, warmth and pride spreading through his fingers because _he made that._ Whenever he buries his nose in her silky, gold curls to kiss the crown of her head, he inhales deep, filling his lungs with the same proud feeling and warm, clean baby smell.

“You make such a good dad,” he murmurs against Harry's lips when Amelia goes down for her nap and they settle in their own bed. Harry beams, pulling back so he can search Niall's eyes for any dishonesty.

“Really?” he asks, but he knows the answer is yes. He's wanted this life for what feels like forever, and now that it's a reality, he couldn't be happier.

“You're made to be a dad,” Niall reiterates just to prove his point. He strokes his hand down into Harry's thin tshirt, over one of the laurel tattoos at his hip. “You're literally perfect.”

“You're just trying to get into my pants,” Harry hums, the words coming out on his smirk. “My ego isn't the only thing that likes to get stroked you know,” he points out, and Niall jumps when he feels fingertips on his fly. He's not sure when they got down there, he's been so wrapped up in Harry's touch.

“Christ,” he exhales softly, already half hard from Harry's proximity. It's been a tough couple of months for their sex life, but he isn't going to be one to complain. He loves their baby and he knows he's going to have to make sacrifices. Even if that means jerking off in the shower while simultaneously cursing his high libido every single morning. It's moments like this that he doesn't take for granted, not that he ever had anyway.

“I should take that as an insult, you not denying anything,” he teases as he undoes the button with one hand, teasing the zipper down as his fingers slip into the front of Niall's jeans. When he's greeted by the dark, eager head of Niall's cock poking over the top of his boxers, Niall turns red.

“S'been too long,” he excuses almost, lifting one hand to rub over his warm cheeks, eyes dropping to where Harry's long fingers are now working down his waistband. He lifts his ass to get his jeans down to mid thigh.

“It has, I'll agree with that,” Harry murmurs, dragging his flat palms back up the pale skin of Niall's thighs, squeezing gently. Niall twitches eagerly, and he's not surprised to look down and see the head already shiny with precome. He's positive that he'll come with just dry humping at this point. It's going to be embarrassingly quick.

Harry's kicking away his skinny jeans with surprising ease, and Niall's sure that their sexual lull is affecting the younger man as well, even if he doesn't act like it. He's usually pretty well held together, even when he's crazy horny and about to bust in his pants. Niall's never really seen him come apart like he himself has many times before, but he's determined to get him to that point someday.

“What do we have time for?” Harry thinks out loud against Niall's lips and in turn, the other boy moans into his mouth, fingers scrabbling to find skin to touch, settling for the heavy weight of Harry's cock between them as the other sinks against him.

“Everything, anything, just... _fuck_ , Harry, don't tease me,” he whines as a calloused fingertip circles his nipple through the thin fabric of his shirt, the nub tightening from the attention. It sends a wicked throb down his middle, intense to the point where he almost wants to weep. He's just that desperate.

“I'll see what I can do then,” Harry murmurs back, licking into Niall's mouth as he connects their lips. He loves watching Niall unravel beneath him like this, hell, he loves _making_ him unravel.

When Harry's hot mouth closes around the head of Niall's cock, those soft, plush lips sinking down over his length, Niall's not sure he can even make a noise that could accurately depict how amazing it feels. He mumbles a string of slurred swears, marred heavily by his thickened accent as Harry's nose touches the light brown curls at the base of his cock. His eyelashes flutter and his hand hovers just above Harry's curls, the auburn strands tickling his fingertips. It's like dying and going to heaven, having that amazing mouth wrapped around him just so when he's had nothing but his own fist to fuck for so long.

His noises quickly become a steady mantra of Harry's name, uttered on each heavy exhale and peppered with swears. He's not going to last long.

It only takes a few more steady bobs of Harry's head and the saliva slick slip of his fingers against Niall's perineum, Niall crying out a soft warning as he spills into his boyfriend's mouth. Harry pulls off, taking the last valiant spurt to his bottom lip and chin, smirking as his big hands roam over Niall's slim middle. Niall has to take a moment to catch his breath.

“C'mere,” he beckons breathlessly, motioning up his body. “I don't wanna move, jus' come up here.” His accent's heavier with exhaustion and he feels absolutely boneless right now, but it's not going to stop him from getting Harry off.

Harry doesn't need to be asked twice before crawling his way back up Niall's body, hands closing around the headboard as he straddles his chest. He licks his bottom lip as he gently moves his hips forward to press the tip of his cock against Niall's lips, making a low, pleased noise when he feels his warm tongue against his skin. He's already leaking eagerly, and Niall laps away the precome lazily before taking him into his mouth. His gag reflex isn't all that great, so he never gets too far past the first few inches, using his hand to work off the rest. His spit helps to slick his hand, blue eyes peering up at the other.

Harry's in heaven with this, teeth closing over his bottom lip as he watches the head of his cock disappear past Niall's pink lips, breath catching in the back of his throat.

“Jesus, Niall,” he breathes out as he gets closer, jerking slightly when Niall's other hand gropes over the curve of his ass, tracing the shape of his bare skin. His grip tightens as Niall's finger trails just at the cleft, teasing him. He can only imagine how amazing it would feel to have Niall three fingers deep in him, working his prostate with those blunt, calloused fingertips.

The thought alone is enough to get him off, and it's not long before he's coming as well, pulling out so he can streak Niall's lips and jaw with his load, hips bucking forward into Niall's fist.

“Fuck, okay,” he pants softly, dropping his head down against his hands, inhaling a deep breath through his nose and exhaling out his mouth before he climbs off of Niall's chest. He hadn't exactly had a build up of tension with their new baby around, but he definitely feels more relaxed than he ever has, fuzzy with adrenaline and post orgasm haze. When he settles down on his belly beside Niall with a smile and a content groan, he's sure he could be asleep in moments.

“Should probably shower,” Niall laughs softly, tilting his head so he can steal a quick kiss. He can't help but lick past the other boy's lips, tasting himself on Harry's tongue. Harry groans at the sensation.

“Don't wanna move,” he grumbles, curling his arms tight around Niall's middle and dragging him in close, holding him in place. He doesn't want to nap without the warm body beside him. Showering can wait for now.

“Yeah, alright,” Niall sighs before nestling himself in Harry's tight grip, drifting off soon after his eyes slip shut.

–

Niall never had an issue finding projects to collaborate on when he came to LA. He played guitar and sang guest vocals for a few people and even made some cameo appearances when he could. Sometimes he got calls to New York to write or make an appearance, but he always made the trips quick, never wanting Harry to be left completely alone with Amelia for too long. It wasn't that he didn't trust the other man, it was just that he preferred to make sure that she was kept on her schedule they had worked so hard to perfect. Harry could be a bit lax at times.

But luckily, the work wasn't steady and he didn't mind: it was a pleasant change from the first six years with One Direction, where their contract had them off for maybe two months a year. This was like skidding to a halt, but he was lucky he always had an adventure to come home to.

It'd been a long day of paparazzi tailing his car, then creeping in the bushes while he got lunch with some friends. He hadn't taken his sunglasses off all day, and they were starting to grow into part of his face, along with the scowl that accompanied them. He's never been good about paparazzi, which didn't pair well with the large crowds and his mild claustrophobia.

So when he gets home and all he can hear is ocean waves and seagulls, he breathes a sigh of relief. Which quickly changes to confusion, because they don't live anywhere near the ocean and seagulls never sound _that_ pleasant.

He kicks off his shoes and dumps his bag on a chair in the foyer, then pads along to investigate further, hands slid into his pockets when he finds the source of the noise.

“This again?” he asks, arching an eyebrow when Harry looks up. He's got his sticky yoga mat out and he's dressed in what look like women's joggers pushed up to mid calf, his hair done up in a bun. No shirt. Bent over with his ass in the air.

Oh, and Amelia's gurgling between his arms, hands closed around her feet as she smiles up at Harry.

“Yeah, I figured I'd see how Mimi likes it,” he explains, moving carefully from downward dog to cobra pose, Amelia reaching up for him when his body sinks close to her.

“She can't do any of that, she's barely even sitting up on her own,” Niall points out, and Harry goes back into downward dog with a huff. Niall knows it's to hide his annoyance.

“You sound like you need to join us,” Harry points out as he slowly drops to his knees, picking Amelia up and holding her above his head in a fluid motion. She wiggles delightedly at being held, even if he is just kinda dangling her by the armpits. “You'll thank me, I swear.”

Niall thinks back to the time that Harry convinced him to do Bikram yoga and he puked afterwards from heat exhaustion, but the promise of potentially feeling inner peace after a stressful day on the job is too tempting and he just nods. Harry hands him the baby.

An hour later, he's blissfully lying on his back next to Harry, arms and legs spread, eyes closed and the baby snoozing on his chest, and he's never felt better.

Maybe it's the yoga, but he likes to think it's because he's with his family.

–

Harry,on the other hand, knows everything is going to be fine when he leaves Amelia at home with Niall. He keeps her on her schedule and makes sure everything around the house gets done before she goes to bed. He's shocked at how spotless it can be considering how messy Niall had always been: he always thought _he_ was the neat one in the band.

So when he leaves for London to help Ed Sheeran record a new album and visit with family for two weeks, he doesn't feel horribly guilty for leaving them behind.

And it's nice, really, seeing their bandmates that he hasn't seen in what feels like ages, sleeping in his old bed in his parents' home in Cheshire. He picks up a ton of goodies for Niall, mostly just snacks and candy that he can't get in California without really looking, a few little cheesy gifts for Amelia. He shows off his purchases every night over Skype, making his daily call part of his boyfriend and daughter's schedule.

“Mimi, check out the bear Daddy got you,” Niall encourages from the other side of the world, bouncing their 14 month old on his knee to get her attention. She's getting ready for her afternoon nap, yawning heavily as she slumps against Niall's middle. Harry's getting ready to meet up with Liam, Louis and Zayn, but right at this very moment, he's making the bear dressed like a London guard march across the laptop screen.

“Someday Papa and I will take you to see the changing of the guard,” he explains as he makes the bear stand stiff. “And we'll visit Granny Styles and Nanna Horan and your Uncles,” he adds excitedly. But Amelia's starting to fuss and Niall pouts at Harry through the camera.

“Sorry, love, we were playing in the pool so she's a bit worn out today,” he sighs, reaching for a pacifier. Amelia opens her mouth to take it from him and immediately closes her eyes once it's secure in her mouth. Niall shifts to adjust her in his arms, smoothing his hand over her back.

Harry waves his hand dismissively, sitting back on his hotel bed and settling his laptop carefully on his belly. “It's fine, really. And I'll be home soon enough,” he hums, scratching at the stubble that's accumulated on his jaw. He was too lazy to shave this morning, and it's not like anyone would really see him apart from the other boys. They'd seen him at his worst many times before and a bit of scruff hardly came close.

“We miss you,” Niall offers softly. Harry knows everything, and the way his eyebrows shift upwards in middle shows Harry how honest that admission is. He smiles at the way his heart throbs.

“I miss you too,” he replies, raking his fingers through his long curls. “I love being back here, but I'll be glad to be home.” His phone beeps and it's Liam asking where he is. He sighs, not wanting to leave his hotel room and his little family on his computer screen.

“Gotta go?” Niall asks, voice quiet as Amelia's breathing evens out and she goes limp in his arms. “I have to put this bean in her crib anyway,” he murmurs, looking down at her sleeping form. The amount of fondness on his face makes Harry's chest tight, and he almost wants to cry he misses them so badly. Niall can probably tell when he looks up at the screen, giving Harry a sweet little smile.

“I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay Haz? I love you,” he says as a goodbye, blowing him a kiss. Harry pretends to catch it and press it to his own lips, unable to mask his smile.

“I love you too. Tell Mimi I said so,” he insists before saying one last goodbye, the call ending moments later. He closes his laptop and texts Liam, telling him he'd be there soon.

–

Through his years as a celebrity, Niall has found that the morning, no matter how tired he is, is the best time to do anything. Less paps are out from staying up late at movie premieres and outside of clubs to catch young celebs on their way home. Plus, with a simple disguise, no one really notices.

Adjusting his snapback and sunglasses, Niall climbs out of the car, walking around to the other side so he can pluck Amelia from her car seat. She babbles excitedly as he grabs his backpack as well, adjusting it on his back with one hand while he balances his daughter on his hip. His bag used to only really carry his laptop and whatever else he needed during the day, but now it's full of diapers and baby snacks, as well as plenty of toys in case she got bored wherever they went.

“You ready to go pick out a very special present for Daddy?” he asks the little girl, smiling when she kicks her legs excitedly, babbling as they walk into the jewelry store. He gives one of the salespeople a smile, lifting his sunglasses to hang them on his shirt collar as he looks at the cases, keeping an eye out for exactly what he's looking for.

“Can I help you?” the saleswoman asks, and he glances up at her, making a small noise in the back of his throat.

“Yeah, um, rings? It's for my boyfriend,” he replies with a blush, shifting Amelia in his arms so he has a better grip on her. She's too busy playing with his sunglasses to care.

“Ah, yes, we have a great selection over here,” she hums as she heads over to a specific case, taking out a few of them as examples. There are thick and thin bands, embedded stones, engravings... Niall kind of wishes he had gone online to get a general idea of what he wanted.

He looks over them all for a long moment before sighing, looking at his daughter. She's eying the shiny objects spread out in front of them, attention completely on the jewelry. His daughter's going to have expensive taste, just like Harry.

“What do you think, Meems? Which one would Daddy like?” he asks, stealing her attention for a brief moment. She surveys his face before looking back at the counter, grabbing for one of them. She's just out of reach, and with good reason too: she's still at the stage where she'll put anything in her mouth, and an engagement ring is no exception.

“This one?” he asks her as he points at the ring, and she nods firmly, making happy baby noises as the salesperson goes to get a box.

–

_I hope u'll b home soon – Mimi has a surprise 4 u_

The text had been there as soon as Harry got off of his flight, lip bitten and pace quick as he walked to the baggage claim. The car he'd called for was late, and his legs wiggled in anticipation as he got nearer and nearer to his house. When they pull into the driveway, the car doesn't even stop fully before Harry's springing out, texting Niall a hurried _Guess who's home?_

The house is somehow pristine when he comes in through the front door, trying to be quiet as he drags his rolling suitcase in. He can hear voices from the living room, and he's antsy to get to them, leaving his overstuffed luggage at the foot of the stairs so he can investigate.

“I heard there was a surprise for me?” he asks before he rounds the corner, and Niall looks up from where he's sitting on the rug in surprise, lips parting slightly before his face breaks into a brilliant grin. Harry's still convinced after knowing him for so many years that the sun shines out of Niall Horan's smile. Amelia gurgles excitedly from where she's sitting on the floor, her legs kicking out slightly as Niall closes his hands around her tiny ones.

“Go on, Meem, show Daddy what we practiced while he was gone,” he encourages as he gets to his feet, holding her arms up gently as she shifts to stand as well. She's beaming just as bright as her Papa when Harry claps for her, crouching down to be more at her level.

“Are you going to walk for me, Amelia Gael?” Harry asks, holding out his hands when she takes a few wobbly steps towards him in the safety of Niall's grip, but then he lets go and she totters for a moment, hands outstretched towards her Daddy as she takes a few, top heavy steps into his arms. Harry sweeps her up into a hug, earning a joyful shriek from the little girl. “I missed my baby so much. And my other baby,” he jokes lightly as he looks up over her at Niall, unable to wipe the grin off his face.

Niall smiles back, looking down to where he's fiddling with something in his hands, but Harry can't be arsed to investigate. He's home with his little family. His daughter is in his arms smelling like warm baby skin, albeit a bit sticky like most toddlers are.

“I was hoping she'd be a little more steady so she could give you this,” Niall says after a moment, taking a few small steps so he's closer to Harry before sinking down in front of them, and it's a beat before Harry realizes he's on one knee. He goes still, eyes wide as he holds Amelia to his chest. She just continues to gurgle happily, fat hands clasping in the front of Harry's shirt.

“Niall,” he starts, but he literally has nothing to say, gaze dropping to the velvety black box between Niall's fingers. His hands are shaking and Harry wants nothing more than to reach over and soothe them, but for now he's frozen in place. _Holy shit._

“I just... it felt like the right time, I dunno,” Niall laughs softly, lifting one hand to push his fringe from his eyes, the blonde tips lingering after trying to grow it out for so long. “And Mimi helped me pick out the ring,” he adds, and the words are so tiny and quiet that Harry has to strain to hear them. Niall shrugs with a sheepish smile, popping open the box. The band is simple and silver, with a small diamond embedded in the metal. It's almost plain compared to the rings that Harry usually wears, all tarnished metals and big chunky bedazzlements. But somehow, when Niall had been looking at rings with Amelia perched on his hip, that one had just stood out. Maybe it was the chubby baby hand reaching out to grab for it. Harry wipes at his eyes even though no tears are coming out. Yet.

“Harry Edward Styles-”

“Yes.”

Niall laughs, and it's one of his full, loud laughs that Harry can feel down to his bones. It's perfect. Harry shivers.

“I didn't even finish, love,” he half scolds, reaching out to swat at Harry's knee. Harry just shakes his head.

“I don't care, Ni. Yes. Yes, yes, yes.” Amelia babbles a noise that sounds close to a 'yes' but definitely isn't. It sounds more or less like blowing a spit bubble.

Niall huffs and rolls his eyes, looking at Harry firmly so he won't be interrupted. Or at least he hopes so. “Will you do me the pleasure of becoming my husband?” he asks finally, after a long moment of waiting, making sure Harry won't interrupt him. Instead he gets a pair of lips on his own, a big hand curling around the back of his neck.

“Yes.”

–

Niall considers himself the luckiest man in the world as he pours himself coffee, looking over to the kitchen table. Harry's sitting there eating his breakfast – Cheerios with banana and almond milk – and Amelia's in his lap, being fed from the same bowl. He plucks out little nibbles of banana and holds them out for her, his one arm secured around her middle as she opens her mouth wide and expectantly. When the sun shines on them both just right, their curls light up like angels. Harry's engagement ring glows.

“I wonder when Amelia's going to say her first official words,” Niall thinks aloud, taking a sip from his mug. Harry looks up, lifting his eyebrows.

“I dunno. I wonder whether it'll be 'Daddy' or 'Papa',” he admits, looking down at Amelia as she chews on her next mouthful of breakfast. She looks back up at him with an almost shy expression before breaking out in a big grin, feet kicking as if to say 'I'm not going to tell you'.

“Nothing wrong with some friendly competition,” Niall muses, walking over to the table and pressing a kiss to Harry's forehead before settling into the seat beside them. “It's just that Papa is much easier to say. So...” He shrugs, a playful smile on his face. Harry looks back at him with his nose wrinkled, eyebrows knit in the middle.

“We'll see about that,” Harry hums around a bite of cereal, bouncing Amelia ever so slightly before he remembers that he's been feeding her. He'd rather not have barf on his $600 Burberry button up, thanks. “And whoever said it was _friendly_ competition?”

–

The whole world kind of erupts at first when they find out about the Styles-Horan engagement, but within days, another celebrity does something scandalous and the focus shifts. It's a breath of fresh air for them, finally allowed outside of the house without worrying about a pap jumping the fence or climbing a tree into their yard.

It's nice though, because Amelia loves the pool, especially on a hot afternoon when it's too nice out to just sit around inside. Niall finds himself running outside quite frequently whenever Harry takes her to sit by the pool, sunscreen and a huge baby hat in his hands.

“Not everyone gets as golden brown as you do, Hazza!” he scolds as he scoops her from the pool (with plenty of whining ensuing from both Harry and their daughter), slathering her arms with the lotion and plonking the hat down on her head. “I think she might have my Irish skin, and I don't want her to have sunburn.”

Harry heaves a sigh and just accepts her back into his arms once the sunscreen's set on her skin, setting her into her little floaty inner tube. “Can you get me a piece of gum while you're out there?” he asks with one of his charming smiles, even though Niall is literally one step from getting in the pool himself. Niall sighs softly, staring Harry down as if to say 'really?'

“I have a pack in those pants over there,” Harry adds, motioning towards the jeans he has draped over a chaise lounge, cupping his other hand over his eyes to shield from the sun even though he's wearing sunglasses. When Amelia starts to float away, he grabs for the floaty, swirling her around in the water and making her giggle.

“Yeah alright,” Niall playfully grumbles as he goes over to the pair of black skinny jeans, digging through the pockets until he finds the chewing gum, tugging a piece free and unwrapping it. Harry comes up to the edge of the pool when Niall sits down there, dangling his feet in the water and smirking when Harry fits himself between his legs, opening his mouth to accept the piece of gum.

“Gum!”

They both pause, lips just barely brushing in a 'thank you' kiss, nearly cracking heads when they look over at Amelia. She's clapping her hands at herself, smile wide.

“Gum, gum, gum!” she repeats, and Harry yanks his sunglasses up his head to stare at her clearly.

“Did she just...” he starts, but it's fruitless because yes, she did just say her first word. And it was gum.

Niall wants to be disappointed that it's not his name, but there's no way he can be, not with those big round blue eyes staring up at him. He beams after the whole thing digests (it takes a moment), sliding into the water and scooping her from the pool floaty to smack a loud kiss to her cheek, grinning when she babbles happily.

“So proud of my little girl,” he coos to her, peppering her face with kisses until her fat baby hands bat at his cheeks with a giggle. Harry smirks.

“Gum is definitely _my_ thing, so... plus one for Styles,” he teases with a wink, checking off an imaginary list. Niall splashes him until he's sputtering and blinking chlorine from his eyes.

–

It all starts with sniffles.

Babies are naturally snotty little creatures, but when Amelia starts sneezing and her nose starts running like a faucet, Harry freaks. Niall is a bit more calm with his approach to battling her cold, calling the pediatrician calmly to discuss what to do, how to measure her fever and when would be a good time for him to bring her in if things got worse. He's sure they won't, but he can never be too sure. They've still only been parents for a little over a year and a half.

Harry can't keep calm though. Amelia's fussy and stressed when she wakes up from her nap, cheeks ruddy from her cold and her precious bowed mouth turned down in the corners. She whines when he settles down with her in front of the TV with her favorite shows, keeping her propped in his lap. She cries, and it's so weird because she never really cries that much, she's always been such a happy baby. She hasn't cried like this since her first teeth came in and it worries Harry. What if she's in pain and she can't tell them?

When Niall comes home from the store toting all the baby cold necessities, Harry's hair is standing up on one end from where he's been worrying it.

“You okay?” Niall asks Harry as he sits down beside him on the couch, reaching over to take one of Amelia's hands. She's dozing, one cheek smushed up against Harry's chest and her tiny eyelashes fanned against her skin. She's warm to the touch, but not to a point that Niall would deem dangerous. He looks up at Harry but Harry doesn't return it.

“Fine,” he mumbles curtly, angling his head so he can look down at Amelia, watch her sleep. “Worried,” he offers after a long moment, lifting his free hand so he can stroke the back of his knuckle over her cheek.

Niall nods, filling a medicine dropper with the right dosage, placing it back in the bottle so he can attempt to wake Mimi up to give it to her. When he finally manages to rouse her, she reacts neutrally for about a second before her whimpering picks up. Harry pushes off the couch and hurries out of the room, Niall looking up in surprise. He watches down the hall for his fiance to return, but he doesn't, the sound of pacing picking up instead.

It's the fact that he's almost lost her before that has Harry like this, fighting tears and trying to walk out the overwhelming feelings that are building up inside of him. Sure, it's just a tiny cold, but he's scared shitless that it's something more. This is his dream come true, and he doesn't want to have it torn away by anyone or anything ever again.

When Niall finds him, he's slowed down, everything tamped to a point where he doesn't feel like he's going to explode and leak his emotions all over the hardwood. Mimi's propped on one arm, the other free so it can close around Harry's bicep and stop his pacing when he comes near.

“Meems wants to lie down in Daddys' bed,” he explains softly, nodding towards their bedroom. Harry just nods, exhausted, defeated. He's worn down to a nub.

The three of them settle into the mattress with a collective sigh, Amelia in the middle with her fathers on either side. Harry takes one of her tiny hands, letting it curl around his finger as he strokes the back of it with his thumb. Niall's watching him, but he can't find it in him to catch his eye, gaze staying down on their daughter as she gets comfortable.

“Harry,” comes soft and fuzzy with Niall's accent, and it's gentle enough to catch his attention, eyebrows lifting with his gaze. Niall pretends not to notice how Harry's eyes are wet and tinted red around the edges.

“She's going to be okay, love,” he assures, reaching over their daughter to curl his hand around Harry's, squeezing gently. “She just needs some rest and medicine and by tomorrow she'll probably be right as rain.”

Harry watches him for a moment before just sighing, inching closer to where Amelia's curled up, trailing his fingers through her golden blonde curls. She makes a soft mewing noise, clearly feeling much better from the medicine that Niall's given her. It's a relieving noise, knowing that she's not crying from discomfort anymore. He ducks down to press a kiss to her forehead.

“I don't know where I'd be without you,” he murmurs against her forehead, looking up at Niall as he does. “Both of you.”

–

The next morning, Mimi sprints out of Niall's grasp as he dresses her for the day, giggling as she darts around the house in her diaper and easily evading Niall's grip.

Harry just watches, peering down at his engagement ring as he reminds himself never to doubt Niall again.

**Author's Note:**

> So because of school coming up, I don't know how much free time I'll have to get more written and posted, so updates will be a bit stretched out. I do have a general plot to follow and points to hit along the way, so I'll see how much I can get done before classes kick my ass. 
> 
> Thanks for reading though! Comments/kudos appreciated :)


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